Y

You can carry me past the daggers that people stare my way
And then I might just
Glance
Sometimes when I look at you I think how I don't know you at all
And other times I know I could probably be your biographer
Maybe I've made up the facts, but I've been underlining all the good parts
It's my secret book
Hidden under layers of bedroom sheets and mattresses
Or guilt and shame
If you ever found it you'd realize how I really see you
And I wouldn't dare ever be that exposed
Like some throwaway trashed out novelty
Four photographs for a dollar
At the antique shop in that part of town
People only drive through some of the time.